Wishsong of Life
by Kira Dattei
Summary: REPOST I don't know what happened. I just sang and they were alive again. It was like they were never gone. GaretJair SLASH
1. A New Life

Okay, first things first: forgive me for just leaving you hanging like I did. inspiration ran dry when I suddenly got hit with ideas for two other stories. then, when I suddenly decided to read Wishsong of Shannara again and get re-inspired for the story, and read over what i had already I decided that it wouldn't do one bit and ended up rewriting it. (damn English classes) well, hopefully this new and improved version will make up for the wait. and hopefully i can keep with it enough to finish it. that would be neat.  
anyway, with no further ado, the (in my opinion) better first chapter of the story. hope you enjoy.

Warning: this story has slash, male/male relationships. Don't like, don't read, don't complain to me.  
Disclaimer: the characters belong to Terry Brooks. ALL HAIL TERRY BROOKS!

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* * *

Wishsong of Life  
Chapter 1: A New Life**

**The song started with great force and power.**

_. . . The Borderman Helt . . ._

_The way he towered over me was so much like Allanon that, most of the time, I couldn't help but retreat. I was sometimes truly frightened of him. However, there was something that always separated him from the Druid: I was never his tool. I was always his companion and, in a way, his charge. He protected me with all his strength and ended up giving his life to save mine, all the while asking nothing in return. I'm almost embarrassed at how little I knew about him, but I treasure what I did learn about him. He was a great individual who devoted himself completely to whatever he thought fit. I still haven't decided whether or not it was a blessing or a curse that the last thing he gave his heart to was me and the quest I was given._

**The force faded from the song, but the strength remained becoming a small, yet powerful, sound.**

_. . . The dwarf Elb Foraker . . ._

_My debt to him is different than the others. He protected me as much as the others, but without him there wouldn't have even been a company. Because of him, I was able to speak with the Dwarf Council and gain the company that enabled me to complete my task. I can never repay the debt that I owe him, and I can't imagine being able to feel greater regret. He was a great friend to the whole company, and his skills, as well as his knowledge as a dwarf, got us through the Wedge and Cillidellan. It is in his memory that I devote myself so much to others._

**The melody lost its powerful tone and changed to an airy and agile sound, but faltered slightly.**

_. . . The Elven Prince Edain Elessedil . . ._

_There is nothing but pain when I think about his death. He had been a true friend since the moment we first spoke. Maybe it was the shared blood. Maybe it was the connection of our fathers. Maybe it was the closeness in age. Maybe I was just desperate to have something to keep me truly grounded with all that went on. Whatever it was, I was proud to have met someone like Edain. His character was a blend of Rone and Brin, making it impossible for me to not connect with him. He was eager to share as well as listen to what I had to say, like Rone, and he was ever so protective of me while still allowing me enough leeway to make my own decisions, like Brin has always been. In allowing him to die for me, I feel like I not only let him down, but I failed his father and the elf's respect of the Ohmsford family._

**The song changed once again to become a gruff moan.**

_. . . The gnome Tracker Slanter . . ._

_He was with me through everything. When it comes down to it, it was because of him that I left the Vale in the first place. He looked after me when nobody else cared and was the only one to see me all the way to Heaven's Well and the battle between magic that occurred. The only regret that I really have is not having any means to contact him. I haven't seen him since we parted and I miss my friend._

**The shadow and mysterious strength that the melody changed to could almost be tasted in the air.**

_. . . The Weapons Master Garet Jax . . ._

**The voice choked and the melody ended.**

* * *

Brin Ohmsford stood on the doorstep of what was once her home in Shady Vale, contemplating and feeling rather foolish for doing so. After all, this had been her home for the first twenty years of her life. That and the fact that her parents would be so overjoyed to see her that they would overlook anything else. Then again, they were a cautious bunch and she _was_ here unannounced. 

Rone Leah stood behind his wife shaking his head at her plight. Only a child of Wil and Eretria Ohmsford would care so deeply about being considerate to the rest of the world, even if - or especially, depending on how you looked at it - it was her own parents. That was, after all, what this whole contemplation was about: whether or not Brin should knock.

Deciding that he wanted to get into the house before someone decided to leave the it, Rone moved past Brin and knocked. Normally he wouldn't knock himself, having been such a close friend to the family for almost all his life, but this was the first time they had stopped by unannounced and he really didn't want to have to sit through a lecture, courtesy of Eretria. He had avoided getting on the elder Ohmsford's bad side so far and was going for a record of "not in this lifetime".

Brin smiled sheepishly back at her husband and waited for one of her parents or her brother to open the door, silently hoping that it was one of the males. After all, her mother would . . .

"Brin? Brin, I missed you so much!" Arms wrapped tightly around her neck as her mother cried in excitement.

. . . Make an unbelievably big deal out of the situation.

"Why didn't you send word that you were going to drop by? You know I hate not being able to prepare for your visits."

"Mom, I used to live here. Believe me, I've seen this house in any condition it can possibly be in," Brin replied as she returned the embrace. Even though it had been a mere month since her last visit, she had really missed her family. They were just too close to stay apart for long periods of time. It was the strong connection with her family members, one in particular, which had driven her to return to Shady Vale.

"Well, go say hello to your father while I greet Rone properly." Rone paled a few shades. "He's in the kitchen." Brin quickly cast a sympathetic glance over her shoulder at Rone, knowing full-well that the proper greeting included a lecture clearly stating that, as a Prince of Leah, he should know to always properly announce himself. She then moved past her mother and removed her traveling cloak, boots, and pack, placing them off to the side of the door.

Brin made her way to the kitchen, already hearing her father moving about. The smells that she picked up as she got closer to her destination revealed that Wil was busy making the medicines he used as a Healer. She knew a few of the simpler ones by heart - it was impossible to have one of the greatest Healers in the south as a father and not pick up some knowledge - but they were nothing compared to the genius behind the mixtures' original creator.

She turned into the kitchen and watched as her father carefully measured out the proper amount of the proper ingredients. Obviously aware that he wasn't alone anymore, Wil quickened his pace at his current task, though Brin knew that his haste held no effect on the quality of the final result. She knew her father could properly create any of his salves while treating a room full of patients without the help of Eretria.

After not even a minute of waiting, her father set down his tools and turned to face his oldest child. Brin had always, in some way, regretted that the only thing she seemed to inherit from her father was his mind-set, the disciplined self-assurance and way of thinking things through carefully. She had always thought that her father's elven features were dignified and wouldn't have been in any way against sharing that manner of dignity.

"Well, I admit this is a surprise," Wil's calm voice brought Brin from her thoughts. "It's only been about a month since your last visit."

"Rone and I were coming back from Culhaven and decided to drop by while we were on the road. But since we were on the road, we couldn't send word to you," Brin explained.

Wil raised a curious eyebrow and Brin caught the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes. "Leah is closer to Culhaven than Shady Vale, you realize that don't you?"

"Father, Leah is closer than Shady Vale to everything."

"True, so my question is why take the extra three days of travel just because you're on the road?"

"I need an excuse to want to visit my family now?"

"After a month since the last time, yes."

Wil was teasing her. This in and of itself was a shock: Wil rarely teased anybody. He was laid back and usually left any joking around to his children. That was their purpose in life: to provide him amusement until they had children of their own and lost any sense of humor they had. He first told Brin that right after she had married Rone, and her reply was that she was glad that they had decided to hold off on having kids. ("Wouldn't want to become any more like you if I could help it," she had said.)

"What's wrong with you? Jair not providing enough amusement to keep you stoic?" Brin asked with a teasing grin spreading across her face.

"It's amazing how dull a child becomes once their sibling leaves."

"How about I take Jair with me to Leah? We'll be sure to get in plenty of arguments with you in mind."

Brin watched as the amused twinkle in her father's eyes faded and he quickly became as serious as he normally was. "I really don't know how to handle that boy anymore. Whenever he's not doing a chore he's off in the woods or finds some excuse to lock himself up in his bedroom."

"Maybe he's just using the solitude to exercise the Wishsong. You know that he wants it to be kept strong in case he needs to use it again. I doubt anything will happen that will require it, but he's not taking any chances." The statement was only half-true.

"I've heard the song coming from his room, but it's strange."

"How?"

"I hear the same one over and over again. _I_ could almost sing it and I don't have that elven magic. But what's strange is how Jair seems like he's unable to finish it."

"Maintaining the Wishsong over a long period of time is exhausting, especially if what we want is complex. Maybe he's just been unable to hold the song for any longer than what you've heard."

"Well, I'll leave that up to you to determine. He is, after all, the reason you're here right?"

Brin truly wasn't surprised that her father had simply guessed at the true reason for the visit. He understood, in a way that Eretria never could, that his children were connected by more than blood: they shared the first generation of magic caused by his use of the Elfstones. They were closer than anyone could ever understand. He proved that he at least slightly understood by no longer forbidding them from using the magic. Of course, that was also partly because he figured that they could no longer consider the magic a toy. Too many people had hunted them for their powers for it to be a mere play-thing.

"Well, since he's not out here greeting you, I'm sure you can guess where he is at the moment," Wil concluded the conversation suddenly.

"Then I guess I'll go talk him out of the woods," Brin declared and turned to leave the kitchen. She grabbed Rone, who was just walking into the room with Eretria, and pulled him back toward the door. As she pulled on her boots, she called to her father, "I'd still visit you, no matter where Jair was!" With that, she was out the door and running in the direction of where she knew her brother would be.

Wil looked over to his wife, who was looking at the closed door with a curious expression. "I'm an afterthought," he declared.

"Better than the sarcasm I'm subject to," Eretria replied with a shake of her head. "Its times like this that I wish we never had any children."

Wil smiled and replied with, "They were fine as children. It's only when they grow up and become smarter than you that you find regrets."

* * *

Brin walked the familiar path of the woods that bordered the Ohmsford home, making the proper turns at the proper landmarks. There was no real beaten path through this part of the woods, but the trail was one she had walked countless times over her lifetime. It hadn't come as a surprise to her when Jair had informed her that he had a "secret place" that he went to whenever he needed to be alone. 

It was a cave that was so well hidden that she doubted she would have ever been aware of if her brother hadn't of pointed it out. There were times when she wondered how he had ever managed to find it in the first, but then would remember that this was Jair that she was talking about and didn't have to think on it again. That boy really had a knack for finding things nobody else could.

That and he simply despised secrets. Brin often wondered how he put up with his companions with that little part of his personality.

When she came within view of the small clearing the cave was in, Brin looked back to Rone and told him to keep off until she talked to Jair. Her brother usually didn't have a problem with Rone, but there were times when it was best to just talk to him alone. Rone nodded and turned away, looking for some where to sit until he was given the clear to pick on the younger Ohmsford. Brin moved the last few hundred feet to where the entrance to the cave lay, hidden behind a wall of brush.

Brin didn't enter the cave, but sat down outside and waited for some form of indication from her brother that he was ready to communicate with her. The silence from within the cave proved her suspicion that he had known she had been approaching long before she entered the clearing. The elven blood running through their veins gave them slightly stronger senses than anybody else in the Vale and Jair's were even sharper from self-devised training.

"Why am I not surprised to see you?" a soft voice not much deeper than hers spoke from within the cave. Brin shrugged slightly and shuffled slightly to the side of the cave's entrance so her brother could come out and sit beside her, which he did without hesitation.

Jair was nothing like the brother she once knew, a fact that she didn't like one bit. She much preferred the younger brother who always jumped at the chance of adventure and always brought a smile to her face just by being near her. His eyes rarely shone with amusement and never had the glow of mischief that had dominated their gaze throughout most of his life. They were old now - old and haunted. She would probably be frightened of the gazes he sometimes gave her if she didn't have them occasionally herself. However, the fact that Jair now looked at the world through sharp silver eyes, instead of the light brown color which he had been born with, was the most disconcerting part of his gaze. She always felt as if he was looking right past her flesh and into whatever was deep within her that made her Brin. He also had let his hair grow out, the light brown and silver strands reaching just below his shoulder blades was secured first with a headband and then braided to keep his neck cooled in the hot summer days. His body was - despite the slight build he had developed - still smaller than most his age, and his ears still held the slight point at the tips, showing that he still had elven blood flowing through him. In fact, the longer hair actually helped to accent his elven features, a fact that Brin was certain didn't escape Jair's attention. It was most likely why he had chosen that particular change in general style.

But it was the Wishsong's sudden change that usually caused Jair the greatest desire for solitude. Brin knew that he tended to want solitude when he was trying to figure something out and his own Wishsong was now a mystery to him.

It took a few more moments for Brin to realize that she had let Jair hanging for a few minutes while she observed him carefully and quickly thought up some reply.

"I know you too well," she said, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. "Oh come on, has there been one time when you've gotten so down that I haven't come to get you back moving again?" Jair's eyes narrowed in thought.

"Come to think of it, no. You always just seem to show up at just the right time." Jair looked at her suspiciously. "Alright, who's the spy?"

Brin tried to keep her shock as secret as possible, but was finding it difficult. Jair was already loosening up and building up to idle banter. He had never even considered joking around until at least an hour after she would first confront him. Either he wasn't as bad off as Wil had implied or…

"Nice try, Bro, but you aren't getting out of it that easily," she scolded and Jair actually gave a sheepish look.

"I am being partially serious, you know. I really _do_ want to know how you seem to show up at just the right time. You aren't that clever."

"I love you, too." Jair shrugged the flat reply off and gave her a look that clearly said he wasn't saying anything else until he got an answer he was satisfied with. So she sighed in frustration and began thinking over all the times she suddenly declared to her husband that they needed to make a trip out to Shady Vale.

After a short contemplation, she shrugged slightly, "I really don't know what gives me the brilliant idea to suddenly come back, but I just feel that I need to be here."

Jair thought about this idea for a short time, and then nodded in acceptance. After all, he knew full well what it was like to be unable to explain something. It was the story of their lives.

"So what's this song I keep hearing about?" Brin chose the subtle approach - a direct one would only result in skillful evasion.

"Depends on who you've been talking to. I've noticed that different people hear different songs," Jair's answer was, as expected, evasive. However it wasn't as evasive as Brin had expected. Maybe they could get this over with quicker than she had thought.

"But only two people in the Vale hear the ones you sing." Jair sighed and leaned his head back against the stone behind him. "You don't have to tell me what it is if you don't want to, but I really want to know why you're down this time around." Jair's eyes closed and Brin lost any chance of figuring out what might be going through his mind. His face hardly ever gave anything away anymore.

"I hate this life," Jair ground out between clenched teeth. "I've always disliked the normalcy of it, but now I actually hate it. It's like there's something in my brain that's screaming that I shouldn't be here - not after what they did for me."

Brin remained silent, mulling over what Jair said carefully. There was no doubt in her mind as to who "they" were. Very few people Jair met could have had so much influence over him, and unfortunately most of them had died for him. Suddenly a peculiar thought passed through her mind that would answer all questions if she was right. She'd work around to it though...

"I think you just got too much of Mom in you. Fires like the one of your spirit aren't meant to be contained by the sort of mediocrity that Shady Vale represents. I mean, how much has really changed since the time of Shea and Flick Ohmsford?" That actually got the faintest of smiles in response. "In a way, I'm too much like Dad. All he ever wanted to do was learn Healing and help people. There really isn't anything adventurous about those ambitions, and I share them - except for the whole Healing part. I just want to settle down with Rone, live my life, and forget everything about the Ildatch."

"It'll never happen, you know? I guess that as long as we are who we are we'll never have true peace. Face it, no matter how much we avoid it, we still have the Wishsong and that makes it impossible for us to truly rest."

"I've done so much with the Wishsong that I regret and am actually afraid of, but it has also done so much for me. If not for the magic I have, Rone and I would have died long before I reached the Maelmord. And might I remind you that it was _your_ magic that saved me. The Wishsong is part of us and we will just have to..." Jair cut her off before she could go any further, but not with words.

His voice exploded in an assortment of strangled notes. She looked past him to see five people standing around Jair, their faces masks of sorrow that wasn't their own, but Jair's. Even though she had only met one of these men, she would have recognized them under any circumstance: the company of Heaven's Well. The song held for only a few seconds until it faded into a choked sob. Jair pulled his legs tight against his lithe body and wrapped his arms around them, curling as far into himself as was physically possible.

Movement caught Brin's attention and she looked to it to see Rone stepping closer, concern in his eyes. She debated whether or not she should allow him to give her a hand, and quickly decided that, yes, she needed all the help she could get. After all, Rone had been her protection: maybe that meant he could say something she would never think of. She nodded him over and he jogged over to sit on the other side of Jair, automatically bringing his arm to hang loosely around the younger man's shoulders.

"Tiger," Brin let a small smile come through at the instant use of Rone's pet-name for Jair. It was something familiar to the youngest of them and never failed to get Jair's attention. "The men that went with you to Heaven's Well probably realized when they volunteered what the journey with you would mean. They were all, in their own way, warriors. Hell, they were probably surprised that they all made it as far as they did." Rone paused, giving his next words careful consideration. "I'm sure that they were honored to see you safely as far as they did. And I bet they felt even more honored that they died protecting someone like you. I know I would have been if I hadn't been so busy saving your sister's butt, and all."

Jair's eyes looked up and met Rone's, carefully observing the man he had known practically all his life. After another minute of silence, he nodded his consent to Rone's words and his body lost most of the tension it held. Brin took that as her cue to make the final comment that would get him back to normal - well, normal for Jair.

"Remember Jair, we're still here for you and always will be. No matter what happens, you can always come to us. You believe me, right?"

"Of course I do, it's just that I wish so much that I could remember what it felt life for the Wishsong to be nothing but a kid's toy. Things were so much easier back then," Jair whispered. Brin nodded slightly in understanding. She missed those times as well. She missed feeling like having magic flowing through her body was no big thing and she hadn't been taken hostage twice for it.

When they had first exchanged the stories of their separate journeys, completing them with their different views of the "showdown" in Maelmord, Brin had been practically mortified to discover that Jair had been held prisoner on two occasions because of his magic. It had forced her to see it as Jair did when he was going through the experiences: being born with the magic truly separated them from everybody else. He had truly gotten lucky that he had been rescued both times before something truly horrible had happened to him. As he had put it when telling the tale: if he hadn't been rescued, he most likely would have reached the Maelmord long before she did.

Deciding that Jair needed a temporary distraction before getting into anything that had anything to do with his magic, she chose to get them back to the house for a meal. "Jair, I am partially here on Dad's orders. That's who told me that you've been down for a while and I want him to know that you're alright." She paused as it occurred to her that they might not be done here. "You are okay, right?"

Jair shrugged off Rone's arm and stood, stretching his body to work out the kinks of sitting in the cave for a long time. He turned back to her and his eyes answered her before he opened his mouth. "I'll be just fine. You know, it really is getting easier for me to get up."

"Good, because you don't deserve to go through this stuff after what you went through before," Rone said before Brin could respond.

Then, before Brin or even Jair - and that was saying something - realized what he was intending to do, he folded his legs beneath him and sprung at Jair, knocking the smaller man right back down to the ground.

"I'm disappointed in you, Tiger. You've foiled my last seven attempts at tackling you to the ground."

"Six," Jair corrected even though it made him less impressive.

"You sure about that? I'm pretty sure I distinctly remember nursing seven beatings."

"One time you tried before I knew you two were visiting and I ended up knocking you around more than I normally would. I should tell you that the black cloak with the hood up didn't help you much."

"You notice I haven't worn it since? Now, why were you unable to avoid me this time?"

Jair raised his body as much as he could with Rone still sitting on his stomach and leaned on his elbows. "Well, I wouldn't want you to look too bad, you being a Prince of Leah and all. Consider yourself lucky: my first instinct is to use the Wishsong." It wasn't the thought alone of Jair assaulting him with his magic that caused a shudder to run through Rone, but what image exactly he would use. Rone had heard from Slanter about the spiders and snakes and wasn't anxious to know how real Jair could make them look and feel.

Of course, Jair now had much more than illusions to threaten people with.

Brin watched the two as Rone turned the comment into idle banter with growing amusement and relief. Maybe Jair really would be alright, given a little bit more time and effort to let go of the deaths that plagued his mind and heart.

* * *

Wil and Eretria were thoroughly overjoyed when Brin and Rone announced that they would be staying for the remainder of the week. To them, this was not only a time to catch up on their daughter's life, but to catch up on the maintenance of the house and inn as well: Jair was simply too small to handle some of the chores. Of course, this reasoning was never told to any of the three of them. Why? Well, Brin would probably actually scold them for thinking that way; Rone would find some reason to leave within the next few minutes out of spite, but come back and do the job anyway; Jair would try and find a way to do the job just to prove that he could handle simple chores. 

The trick was to wait for Brin or Rone to mention something that obviously needed repairing and gradually working other tasks in as they went along.

However, these thoughts only presented themselves after the first of Brin's visits. The first day was always set aside for getting to know their daughter again - and sometimes their son as well. Wil had often told his wife how he believed that they had somehow lost both of their children in some manner and Eretria agreed with him sometimes when she looked at Jair.

The boy definitely wasn't who they remembered from just a little over a year ago most of the time.

"Tell us, Rone, how is your father doing? I heard that there has been quite a bit of activity in the Highlands lately," Wil commented as Eretria brought out platters of food for dinner. The woman always managed to find a feast laying around the house whenever Brin and Rone came.

"Father's been doing great considering how much movement has been passing through Leah lately. I've seen more gnomes, elves, and dwarves pass through in the last few months than I have in my whole life," Rone answered as he reached out for some bread rolls.

"Do you know why there has been so much activity from those three races? It's strange enough to hear of gnomes moving around so much , but the elves have always been known for their solitary nature. They accept other races well enough, but keep to themselves otherwise," Wil said thoughtfully. Rone would never doubt Wil's observations: out of all of them, the Healer truly knew what elves were like.

"That's what Father has been trying to figure out. From what I've been able to gather, most who have passed through are merely recovering from all the business with the Mord Wraiths. Gnomes are really making an effort to mend whatever they destroyed while serving the walkers."

"It's going to take a lot more than a few apologies to fix everything that happened between the gnomes and dwarves," Jair commented dryly. Rone understood that a good percentage of Jair's opinion was on account of personal feelings towards the gnomes. They had done too much harm for him to simply forgive and forget. He also realized that the what wasn't personal came from what he had witnessed of the feud between the two races and held a lot of credibility.

"At least they're making whatever effort they can to get things back in the right - peaceful - direction," Rone pointed out carefully. The last time he had taken a neutral side in this matter, Jair had stormed off and ended up not speaking to Rone again for a few months.

"Yeah, at least they let their ambitions die with the Ildatch. Hopefully nothing will happen to stir anything else up between the two races. The dwarves lost a lot fighting against the gnomes and it will take a long time to recover."

"From what I can tell, that's where the elves come in," Jair looked at Rone, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. "It seems that King Ander has been lending Culhaven sentries so the dwarves can focus on rebuilding."

"Why would Ander do something like that?" Brin asked. She hadn't been informed of any of the details of the goings-on between the three races, but had noticed how many companies had been passing through Leah lately.

"Ander is a great man and was definitely meant for leadership," Wil cut in. "He cares about what goes on with other races, but still respects the traditions of the elves. Also, as an elf, he doesn't aide races. He helps those who are truly good."

"Which is why he was helping the dwarves out in the first place a year ago," Jair concluded. It made sense considering that it was how he would have acted as well. In his journey to Heaven's Well, his company wasn't really fighting gnomes but the allies of the Mord Wraiths. It just happened to be the gnomes who had been on the side opposing them. Things would have happened differently, no doubt about that, but it wouldn't have changed who Jair's true enemies were in the journey.

"So, your father is simply going to allow things to continue on without getting involved?" Eretria asked.

"That's the idea. Since Leah wasn't involved in the battle to begin with, Father has offered that it wouldn't be right to get involved now that the danger's over. It would really be a cowardly way to do things. Apparently King Ander understood because he hasn't pressed for involvement. He just asked that Leah would provide shelter to those passing from Arborlorn to Culhaven."

"Smart actions on both men's part.," Wil mused obviously saying things as they registered in his mind. This was how he worked with patients so all knew to let him work things through. "This way, Leah remains neutral should any disturbances rise up between dwarf and gnome again. Ander has, in a way, allowed Leah to protect itself from harm. Yours is a small kingdom that doesn't have the force to resist any of the three races on edge here."

"It's why we didn't really get involved in the first place, disregarding the fact that I traveled with Brin to destroy the Ildatch."

"It was a decision you made as Rone Leah, not a Prince of Leah. They couldn't have started something with Leah under those pretenses alone. It would have simply caused unnecessary problems," Wil reasoned.

"You know, for a Healer from Shady Vale, you sure know your politics and warfare," Rone complimented.

"It's amazing what people talk about when you clean a cut and fill them full of pain killers."

"Or alcohol," Jair added, almost as if he hadn't really meant to. The light blush that covered his tan cheeks afterwards implied that he most likely hadn't meant to let that thought escape his mind. At the look he was getting from Wil, he quickly fumbled for a way to smooth the comment over. "Not that you would use alcohol so flippantly, Dad, as to include it in your pain killers. It is, after all, a horribly easy habit to pick up. Though some of your antidotes do taste like concentrated ale..." he froze again as more unwanted words slipped out of his mouth and his face darkened further, getting a laugh from everybody at the table.

"Keep talking, Jair," Wil teased. "I'm sure a few more feet can be fit into that big mouth of yours."

"I don't doubt it, but I'll stick with what I've already swallowed."

* * *

Okay, so what do you think? i prefer this version much more, mainly becausei've gotten better at descriptions and making sure the story flows. now, rest assured, just about everything that went on in this chapter has some significance, even if i don't know it all myself yet.

i'm already about a thousand words into the next chapter and am going strong. i WILL get out this story even if it kills me, but not my grades.

well, see you guys nexttime.  
**Kimra Dattei**


	2. Not the Same

And the winner of the unofficial "Which story will I update next?" contest is: THE WISHSONG OF LIFE!!!!! Take a bow! I can't believe how long it took me to get the next chapter of any of my stories out, but I'm kinda glad that it was this one. It has a special place in my heart because of how few stories there are out there with the pairing it will eventually get around to.

Speaking of which - WARNING: This story will contain slash in the near future. If you don't like, that's your problem, not mine. There's a Back button on your Browser for a reason. Constructive criticism is always welcome (especially with this story because I don't plan on changing anything from the book. this is just my version of a continuation) And flames are...FIRE! FIRE!...for this pyromaniac's amusement alone.

Another warning - in my opinion anyway - is the shortness of the chapter. I was hoping to get at least two thousand more words in there, but I just felt that an more would throw off the rhythm this chapter seemed to go with. But enough for now, talk to you after the chapter.

* * *

**Wishsong of Life**

**Chapter 2: Not the Same**

Jair followed his sister cautiously through the woods. Once the house was silent and she was certain that the rest of the family was asleep, she had worked her way into her brother's room and told him to follow her. Barely giving him time to slip on a thicker tunic, she walked out of the house and into the woods with him following. He felt a little sorry for not mentioning that Brin should stop to put shoes on - she never did like walking around the woods barefoot and wasn't nearly as accustomed to it as he was. Her small stumbles and sharp intakes of breath proved that she hadn't changed in that respect.

After a few minutes, and plenty of distance between them and the house, Brin turned and faced her brother. The serious tone to her features told Jair enough of what this was about: the Wishsong. Every time she visited, Brin would make sure he told her any new developments in its change.

The first change had been ever so subtle that Jair almost overlooked it completely. In order to improve his eyesight in the dark, he would sometimes use the Wishsong to create the illusion of fire to light his way on his first pass of a new trail. He'd done the same thing hundreds of times before, but something had changed in Jair at some point and not even he could say exactly when. He had felt heat when he began singing, but thought nothing of it: warmer areas of the forest were nothing new to him. What made him realize that the fire was real was a scorch mark that remained on a tree as he passed. He hadn't even noticed until he was on his way back, but when he saw it he called the fire again against stone and once again felt heat from the flames and a patch of black soot remained on the stone once the fire was gone.

After that, Jair hadn't used the Wishsong again until Brin visited about a month later. He had been too afraid to. When he told Brin about it, her first instinct was to tell him to never sing again, but she quelled that response and pressed him to find out just what he could do. His next test was with other illusions that he had used often, namely the one of spiders. He sang, willing more than just the image of spiders, but the feel of them against Brin's skin, the heat of its body, and the tiny breaths that it would take to live. Once the thoughts were formed together to make one song, a single living spider appeared on Brin's arm. The next test, of course, was seeing if the spider would disappear, like his illusions did, when he stopped singing. So, when Jair couldn't maintain his voice any longer, he let the song fade and waited to see if the spider would as well. The arachnid remained for a few seconds after Jair's voice stilled, then faded away, piece by piece.

After that, they worked to keep the changes in the Wishsong monitored and as under control as they possibly could. There had been little change over the last few months, but that didn't calm their anxieties as to why Jair's Wishsong was changing as it was and Brin's was still the same.

"Well, has anything changed?" Brin asked, getting straight to the point.

"Not really, but I've been gradually getting stronger. I've been able to hold both illusions and reality for a lot longer than I used to."

"What about the more complex illusions, like making yourself invisible?"

"I barely notice the complexity of it anymore and can hold it for about fifteen minutes solid while moving. I think it finally stopped changing."

Knowing how atrocious her brother's lying skills were, Brin didn't question his explanation, until she realized how clipped his responses were: sure he couldn't lie, but he could omit with the best of them. "Jair, are you telling me everything?" Brin asked, knowing that if she asked him directly, he wouldn't be able to talk his way around it. But that didn't stop her from wanting to be wrong in reading the situation; if she was, then there would be nothing else to worry about and Jair could go back to trying to get his life back in order.

Jair was silent for a few minutes and Brin began to worry. There _was_ something else and Jair didn't want to tell her. What if he could kill something, like she was able to do? What if he could force something so hard that it sucked all the life out of it? Jair's magic had yet to show that it could influence living animals and plants, but she wasn't going to count anything out with the magic of the Wishsong. Brin had practically worked herself into a frenzy of "what ifs" by the time Jair actually answered.

"I sung something back to life," Jair whispered.

Brin's brain stalled and it took her about a minute to get it started again, and another minute after that for her to actually get around the idea that Jair had done exactly the opposite of what she was ever expecting to hear. Singing life out of something as she could do was one matter, but bringing something back to life… Something was definitely off here.

"Tell me what happened. Why did you even try something like that?" Brin demanded, her confusion making her sound harsh.

"I wasn't thinking about what I was doing, I just acted and before I knew what had happened, it was over with. One of the dogs that hang around the inn had gotten hit by a wagon and I was wrapping it so I could bury it, and for some reason I just started singing. I might have just intended it to be something to do to keep my mind off what I was doing, but when I looked at the dog again, it was breathing. All the major wounds that it had on its body were gone too. I don't really remember it happening; all I know is that I sang and the dog was alive again because of it."

Brin mulled the story around in her head for a few minutes, working out a way to test just how far this new ability would stretch. Then the thought hit her that maybe she didn't really _want_ to know the extent of Jair's magic if this was the direction it was taking. The urge to convince her brother to never use the Wishsong again resurfaced for the first time since it first changed; she didn't know if she could suppress the urge this time around.

"I've been kinda avoiding the Wishsong since I did that until I could talk to you about it. I've never affected living things before."

"But the dog wasn't alive when you affected it. It was dead. From what we've been able to find out by observing the changes of the Wishsong, we've been able to determine that whatever you create starts out as an illusion and then becomes real when you press the Wishsong harder. Perhaps the same thing is going on here. Did you feel any different once you had brought the dog back to life?"

Jair thought it over for a minute. "I was pretty exhausted; more than normal. I barely made it back to the house and into my bed before I passed out."

Jair was right, that wasn't normal. Yes, extended use of the Wishsong was exhausting but never before had either of them actually passed out from using it. And getting exhausted from only one song was unheard of. As Brin considered the situation, Jair's eyes turned to the ground and he began to feel that maybe he shouldn't have told Brin about that particular development. But at the same time he knew that it would have been impossible to keep it hidden from her. After all, he was waiting for her to come back so he could talk to her about this. What good would have withholding it have done him? So, with a heavy sigh and a wad of conflicting emotions that his legs folded beneath his weight and he slowly lowered himself to the ground. As he shifted to a more comfortable position, he reminisced on the less confusing times of having magic, "I remember feeling like I'd been somehow given the rotten end of some deal when we found out about the Wishsong. I remember always asking myself what made you so special that you could be so much more powerful than me."

"Jair…"

"After all, how could I be considered strong when all I could do was create really good pictures?"

"…And now?" Brin could guess where this was going and she didn't know if she should be relieved or concerned.

Jair sighed heavily and looked up to his sister. "I don't want the Wishsong anymore. All it's done is get people killed. Anyway, if I can bring things back to life, what's to keep me from singing the life back out of something?"

Even if that was possible, Brin couldn't envision her brother killing anything. After all, Jair didn't have whatever it was she possessed that gave her the strength of mind and will to kill something. Her brother thrived on the thought of being alive and taking that precious thing from any creature was beyond the Valeman. But how was she supposed to convince him of that when he had it so fastened in his mind that he was responsible for the deaths of the men who travelled with him?

"I don't think that could happen. I mean, I don't think even I could sing the life out of something that isn't a plant or a creature of the shadows. The Wishsong is Elven magic after all, and I hardly consider granting life to be an act of evil intentions. And even if it did change so that you could, I don't believe that you would ever go through with something like taking someone's life from them."

Jair's silver eyes shone with appreciation before they dimmed again to display the intensity of his thoughts. "I already decided that I don't want to know how far this new power will grow. I'm done not knowing what will happen the next time I sing."

"Then you're not…" She was having problems getting full sentences out today.

"I'm not going to stop using the Wishsong. We both know that it's practically impossible to downright ignore something that's so much a part of who we are. What I am going to do is keep from using it unnecessarily like I've been doing. I learned how to keep myself from making the illusions real. It takes more concentration to hold myself back, but I'm not going to risk something happening that could get someone hurt."

Despite her previous urge to tell him to do just what he had decided, Brin was completely torn. Over the year and a half since their journeys, she had many times considered telling Jair to stop using the Wishsong as he did, but had managed to refrain from doing so because of Jair's feelings toward his magic. She had always believed that Jair respected the magic in a way she would never be able to and that kept her silent. Not only had his illusions had saved his own life many times, but they had saved his sister and that meant everything to him. Yet here he was, making the decision on his own concerning his magic, and it just happened to coincide with what Brin believed to be best for him. Furthermore, she could honestly say that she had never heard her brother sound so absolute about anything and that led her to believe that we would keep to his decision, no matter what.

But that was what had her concerned.

"Are you sure about this Jair? What if something happens and you get hurt because you refused to break some self-made oath not to use your magic?" Not that it was likely for something to happen again. Things had been settled for the time being with the destruction of the Ildatch and it seemed to be tradition for each Ohmsford to only be involved with one world crisis each.

"I'd rather die than risk anybody's life again. Just look at what I did to the ones who chose to protect me."

Brin felt thoroughly frustrated as the other main source of her brother's despair surfaced. "How long are you going to let that destroy you?" Brin couldn't restrain the question. "They knew what they were risking when they volunteered for the job and you're being really selfish taking all the blame."

"I am selfish. That's the only way I could take four lives so easily. Even Garet…" Jair's voice cracked and before Brin could say anything, her brother stood and stormed away in the direction of their home.

Brin sighed and ran her fingers through her thick hair and started walking slowly to follow her brother's heading. Looks like no matter what happened, things would always come back to the Weapons Master. The level of influence he had gained over Jair sometimes frightened Brin and she was just glad his devotion had been towards the Ohmsford and not against him.

"Garet Jax…" The Weapons Master had connected with Jair in a way that Brin simply couldn't comprehend. Sure, her brother always had been and continued to be a sucker for a good story, so someone with so much travels under their belt would appeal to the Valeman. But according to what Brin had been told, Jair had never really talked with the man about anything. This just made it harder for her to place where exactly the connection had come about.

Maybe the man had just used Jair as a means to his own end, offering whatever was necessary to get what he wanted out of the quest to the Maelmord. How Jair spoke of the man made that possibility near impossible to even contemplate, but Brin's protective instincts over Jair and her lack of understanding of the situation were quickly taking precedence in her opinion of this Garet Jax. This was, after all, something she always thought on whenever she talked with her brother and the topic allured to his deceased companions. With all the others that had lost their lives defending Jair, his connection to them as individuals was easy enough to pinpoint: Helt had been a powerful but gentle ally that offered Jair conversation when the situation became too confusing for the Valeman to follow, Foraker was the whole reason for the company's existence, and Edain became a friend to him as a person and not just as someone that needed protecting. Even Slanter's connection could be traced to the unnecessary concern over Jair he had displayed while he was in captivity of the gnomes.

It was times like this when she hated that Jair absolutely refused to talk with her about the Weapons Master. If she could just talk with him, there would be the slightest chance of catching something that would tip her off in the right direction and she could help him sever the hold the dead man held over his life.

Of course there was the possibility that Garet Jax had been as attached to Jair as the Valeman had become to him. It was an idea that put the man in a better light, but it was honestly the hardest one Brin could imagine being true.

After all, if the man had cared so much about Jair, he wouldn't have let himself be killed because he would have known how much Jair would hurt because of it.

The Ohmsford home came into view and Brin caught sight of Jair standing beside the front door waiting for her. As his eyes met hers, she sighed sadly as she remembered that knowing anything about Garet Jax now would be pointless. The man was dead and they were alive.

* * *

"That girl is becoming a nuisance," the cold voice echoed through the nearly empty hall, occupied by only two dark figures. "Every time he gets close to the breaking point she shows up and pulls him back." The other creature in the room cowered as far as possible as the speaker stood and walked over to the window off to the side of the room. 

"What doess Masster want me to do?" the crouched form asked fearfully. "Doess Masster want the ssisster dead? I can kill the ssisster for you." Blood red eyes turned to the Mwellret and it cringed at the annoyance within the gaze.

"If I wanted her dead, I would have killed her myself before she made it to Shady Vale. As long as they are in the Vale, I can't touch them."

"May I assk why, Masster?"

The annoyance was gradually increasing, but faltered slightly as if in realization. "If I don't tell you, you'd go off and do something stupid. While they are in Shady Vale, they have their father and the Elfstones to protect them. That magic is old and too powerful for me to fight. Also, they are familiar with the people there and they would hear about a new face too quickly for me to take any action. And it is still too soon to take any action. The boy has nowhere near the strength necessary to survive my needs of him."

The Mwellret didn't understand why they didn't just take the Valeman now, before he _did_ have whatever strength he needed. The creature wasn't comfortable just leaving the boy to grow away from their needs of him; after all, the more power of his own he held, the harder it would be for the Mwellret to ensnare the magic that flowed from the Valeman with every breath he took.

A pity Styths had acted on his own. That creature was among the strongest of them and he could have held control over anything, except the Druids. But he had disobeyed their master and had taken the Valeman long before him was even the slightest bit of a threat.

"Leave," the cold order caught the creature by surprise and it acted instantly, slithering toward the door and to safety from the enraged man.

Once alone, the man carefully thought over his possibilities. When he had first found the treasure that was Jair Ohmsford, he had believed that claiming what he needed would be easy work. He had acted leisurely and subtly, slowly setting up the situation in his favor and Jair had unknowingly already walked right into his hands. Then the sister had shown up and had made quick work of undoing chunks of his careful work with every visit. At first he had dismissed it, confident that he had just not placed a strong enough hold on his target; this was fixed easily enough with the proper adjustments. However, when it kept on happening, he found himself at a loss as to how his hard work was being so easily destroyed just by some older sister. It just didn't make sense.

If it continued, he would have to act before Jair was ready, and that would complicate things further. If the family wasn't under the assumption that the youngest of them hadn't left of his own accord, then they would surely pursue him and that just wouldn't do. He needed the rest of the boy's life for his purpose; anything less would be pointless.

What concerned him further was Jair's only surviving protector's sudden movement. If the reports his followers had given him were true, the gnome was heading in the direction of the Vale and that could only cause him more grief. After all, Jair's will reacted strongly to the people around him and if the presence of his sister alone could affect his hold on the boy, what could the arrival of his company's sole survivor do to it?

The man turned his focus within himself and touched the corner of his mind that separated him from everybody; the part that made him the same as Jair. Once his control was firmly secured around the power he held, he extended his focus to the distance, touching the existence that he had never seen but was intimately connected to.

Jair was sleeping: perfect. The Valeman's mind was so easy to penetrate when he was locked away in slumber. Touching his mind and magic to the other, the man let loose every dark intention he could to the boy's mind and smirked in victory as Jair's mind reacted to it, curling into himself to try and escape the darkness that was creeping into his very being.

"_You will be mine, Child of Life. This is your warning: Reiph is coming for you."_

He was shut out immediately as Jair sprang awake in his bed.

* * *

So, there is finally the second chapter of this story. Let me know if something you feel should have been better explained and I'll either reply and elaborate or tell you to be patient because it was intentional. 

Something I thought was funny: in order to get myself back into the story, I wrote out by hand a scene further down the line between Jair and Garet that I just can't wait to get into the story now. After I wrote it, I looked over it again and decided that it was undoubtedly one of the most intimate scenes I've ever written without there actually being much physicality within it. But everything I tried to write out after that was just...blah! and I think it'll all remain blah until I actually get to that part of the fic. You will definitely know when that scene is posted because it will be a point of celebration for me, and hopefully it will be as powerful for the story as I think it is.

Anyway, reader responses, because I love you guys for your patience:  
**smiling cat:** thanks for the review and glad you liked it. I originally wasn't planning on putting much focus on Brin and Rone, but this newer version is turning out quite a few surprises for me, so i wouldn't count out anything at this point. in fact, for the sake of the story's timeline over the period between the book and this fic, i was considering laying out details of when exactly Brin and Rone got married and all that. hope you enjoyed.  
**Yuri Ameno:** thank you for the compliments. i feel like i've gotten better with story-telling with time (you have no idea how many fanfics i write in fandoms that aren't included on that i use for practice), but hearing someone else say it makes me feel so much more confident. and as I said before, i don't plan on changing a bit of the original story. it was awesome without me and i can only hope to touch the characters created by Terry Brooks accurately enough. thanks for the review and hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
**FairyDust353:** i'm glad you like the story and here's your update, sorry it wasn't exactly "soon".  
**Shadow Cat17:** here's the update, but without the soon. i'm hoping for a much quicker one this time around. nagging is welcome. thanks for the review.  
**Black Sorceress:** let me know if this chapter helped to clear up some of the points that were hard to follow in the first chapter. if not, let me know exactly where those points were and i'll figure out if those were on purpose or not. i have a habit of getting into the mood of alluring on details and do it to certain details i don't want unclear. thanks for reviewing and hope you enjoyed this chapter.  
**April Watson:** believe me, you don't need to apologize for reviewing. it makes me feel all tingly inside when someone who doesn't have an account likes a story so much that they review - especially when that story is one of mine. o and i mourn the lack of Garet/Jair fics just as much as you. i was actually hesitant to post this fic because i couldn't find any other fics with the pairing, then figured that it couldn't hurt to see if i start something.  
speaking of which, do you have an account now under the name **apelilly** with a nice piece of Garet/Jair one-shot of your own? i noticed that your email addy is just about the same to the pen name and wanted to know if you are the one behind that.  
**AngelOfPastPresentAndFuture:** yeah, i liked the first version of the fic too, but i absolutely love how much better this one is coming out. because of certain changes i've made to the storyline, the old version would no longer work, but i still keep referring back to what i have of it. i know it wasn't exactly soon, but here's the update you asked for. hopefully its enough to tide you over until i post the next one where it should really kick off (i seem to like kicking off the real storylines in my fics around the third chapter, part of the reason i can't do one-shots to save my life). the next chapter will be longer for sure. thanks for reviewing.  
**bloodylake:** well you didn't have to wait long for an update, but it really did help me to get this chapter out when i received your review. in fact it was your review that kind of influenced the observations of Reiph at the end of the chappy concerning Brin's affect on Jair's attitude. in addition to my love of the idea of Garet/Jair, one of the greatest appeals of the book was the relationship between Jair and Brin and how it was the reason Brin could be saved. it really is a center for the fic until Garet comes into the picture again. anyway, before i risk spoilers, thanks so much for the review and hope you enjoyed this chapter.

My plans for the next chapter are pretty vague at this point, but once I get into writing it, things should go smoothly considering how quickly I worked this chappy to my satisfaction once I revived my muse for the fic (three days). In addition to welcoming constructive criticism, I do accept nagging. Sometimes, a nicely timed nag is just what I need (thanks again **bloodylake**!) so don't worry about me getting peeved about seeing a PM if you've already reviewed in my inbox.

Also, even though I have a reputation at my college as a cut-throat editor, I have problems editing out my own work. so if you're good at editing, drop me a line about being a beta for this fic.

So, talk to you guys again sooner than a year from now.  
**_Kimra Dattei_**


	3. Recall

**Wishsong of Life  
****Chapter 3: Recall**

It seemed that Shady Vale was gaining a reputation of the movement that scurried through the village at night, though only a single family was really aware of it. People here were simple and lived by day and since it was so far out of the way - a three days travel at least from the nearest town - travelers didn't usually show up at all hours. The streets - which were only slightly better than beaten paths separating buildings - usually emptied almost completely around dusk and remained that way until morning when that farmers woke to attend to their tasks.

Jair sighed in slight annoyance at the redundancy of his line of thought as he easily navigated his way in the dark to the inn. His eyesight had been among the physical improvements his body had gone through, gaining a hint of the night vision Helt had been so recognized for. The change wasn't very drastic, but like so much else, Jair had worked hard to hone it to its greatest potential.

The only question that nagged at Jair's mind was why. The Ildatch was destroyed and Allanon had told Brin that their task was complete. In fact, Allanon had barely given him a second glance when they'd seen him last, not that the druid had the greatest track record of keeping people informed. So why did Jair have the burning feeling that he should be ready for this peace to fall apart and that he would regret not being ready for crisis this time around? It just didn't make any sense to the Valeman, no matter how much time he just sat and thought about it.

Was this how Shea, Flick, and Wil spent their lives once their journeys had been completed?

Did Brin at least feel the same as him, even if his predecessors hadn't? The destruction of the Ildatch was a shared experience after all; that had to mean something. Wasn't that what separated them from the rest of their family in regards to Allanon's need of them, that the task was impossible to accomplish with Brin alone? What if…

"You will be mine, Child of Life…"

Maybe that was part of it. Jair didn't really feel the weight of the name the King of the Silver River had used until a few months after he purified the river. The King was even more mystical than Allanon in Jair's eyes and once he'd thought about it he'd been unable to shake the sensation of there being more to the name than saving the life of the Silver River and his sister. And if there really was more to it, what did that mean for his future? Was he actually in danger living as he was with no protection? But who could he possibly entrust his safety to like that? _Could_ he even go through with asking it of somebody? Even if he could talk about this with Brin, her complete unwillingness to use the Wishsong would only get her killed. And though he may trust Rone to do the job, he knew the Prince was forever hindered by his experience with the magic of his sword. And the only other person he felt he could ask had been gone from his life for two years; Jair even doubted that the tracker would ever consider coming near him again.

Jair sighed deeply as he pulled his key to the back door of the inn from a pouch at his hip that he used to carry a variety of herbs and ointments around with him. He'd had the bag for years now, his father having made it for him when he first started teaching his children some of his Healer remedies, but had only started carrying it with him most of the time when he returned from his journey.

"…Reiph is coming for you…" 

He brought it with him tonight mainly because he had aromatic herbs that worked wonders for headaches brought about by stupid dreams that freaked him out and made him walk around the Vale at ungodly hours of the morning. This wouldn't be such a big deal if he didn't have to heat the herbs and crush them into a paste for full potency: a relatively loud and extremely stinky task to have to complete in a quiet house full of people trained to recognize the scents and uses for every plant in existence.

As he made his way to and around the dark kitchen - not bothering to light any candles and make waste of the few minutes it takes for his eyes to fully accommodate seeing in the dark - he mechanically went through the motions of making the aromatic paste as his mind finally went to the actually content of the dreams that had woken him so upset.

For lack of a better word, the feeling of his dream had been evil. He had freaked out immediately as his mind recalled images of his sister under the control of the Ildatch and he feared that something dark was beginning to control him. As he became more aware of himself and listened to the sounds of his family sleeping throughout the house, he was able to calm himself down enough to realize that he was still every bit himself as he had been the night before. So then what had brought about the darkness that had seemed to engulf his entire being?

"Reiph…" the name slipped from Jair's lips. Honestly, Jair could have continued sleeping with the images of destruction and pain the dark dream had wrought, but the voice that called out to him had deeply disturbed him. The voice had completely encompassed him mind, body, and soul; Jair even swore he could feel it touch the part of him that was his magic. It had spoken to him with intimate familiarity that made Jair want to wretch as well as a dark intent that he recognized from another creature that was as much a source of his nightmares as the deaths of his friends.

Forcing his mind past the nauseating recollection, Jair recalled the thought that had occurred to him upon awakening: he's destroying me. He was at first confused by the instinctive thought before, but now that he'd had time to think carefully he saw that he was most likely onto something. The feelings that the dreams wrought were familiar: they were at the core of the pain that he seemed to identify himself by these days.

But what did that imply about this Reiph?

What else was this man capable of if he really existed outside Jair's tormented subconscious?

And how did he manage to get distracted enough to nearly obliterate the paste?

Jair sighed in relief as he brought his full attention to what his body was doing at the moment and realized that the paste was not crushed beyond usefulness, remembering easily that if the herbs were crushed too much, their aroma lost too much potency to have any effect lasting longer than about half an hour. While that wouldn't bother Jair, who usually didn't need anything very strong for headaches, he was hoping for the side effect of this particular blend to kick in so he would be able to sleep through the rest of the night without dreams.

He added a few dry leaves of the herbs to the mixture and crushed it just enough to release their nectars which would complete the concoction. He pulled out a small bowl and moved the paste into it, then washed out the dishes he'd used. He walked out to the dining area and over to the front desk, nodding in greeting to the man dozing at the counter. He moved behind the counter just enough to grab one of the room keys, checking quickly which rooms were occupied. He turned and walked toward the stairs not bothering to say anything; this had happened a few times before and so it wasn't necessary to explain himself.

He made his way through the dark hallways and up the stairs to the second floor where all the rooms were and made his way to the one his key was for. He unlocked the door opened it just enough to slip through and shut it softly behind him. He set the bowl on the small bedside table and pulled the pouch from his belt, then removed the belt and pulled off his worn leather tunic he had slipped on in lieu of it being warmer and darker than any of his cloth ones.

Having not bothered putting on shoes, he sat down on the bed with his back against the headboard and opened his shirt at his chest. He reached over to the bowl and dipped his fingers into the sticky substance, already smelling the strength of the aroma now that he was in a smaller room. He placed a spot of the paste on both sides of his collarbone, massaging it gently into his skin so it wouldn't get spread out by his shirt's movement while he slept, then applied the paste to the skin behind his ears, and finally applied it to both temples. He could already feel his body relaxing and his mind gradually cleared.

There were definite benefits from having a paranoid Healer for a father.

* * *

Jair didn't have to look out the small window beside the bed to know that he had overslept; the sluggishness of his body's movement was enough to tell him it was nearly lunch. He growled a sigh of frustration but knew that it was inevitable between not sleeping well lately and then finally using herbal remedies to sleep. The paste he'd made didn't keep you asleep, but just allowed the mind to relax so that it could reach deep sleep and allow the body and mind to recover itself.

"Maybe I should have ground the potency out of it," Jair mused as he pulled himself out of bed and walked to the door to make his way to the wash room at the end of the hall. After a splash of cold water on his face to wake himself up completely and a washcloth with soapy hot water to thoroughly clean the areas he'd applied the paste to, he walked back to the room and gathered his belongings.

He adjusted the collar of his undershirt to cover his chest, tied his pouch back onto his belt, and grabbed his tunic and the bowl and left the room. Stopping only long enough to turn and lock the door behind him, Jair made his way back to the counter and returned the key to its hook.

He was about to turn to the front door when he subconsciously picked up the sensation of something being different about his surroundings. He immediately began scanning the dining area - where many people were conversing idly while taking their lunch - with his eyes and ears. He didn't really feel like anything was particularly wrong or dangerous; just different. It wasn't until his eyes had almost made a complete sweep of the room that he spotted the source. His mind screamed in familiarity as he spotted a cloaked gnome huddled in the farthest corner of the dining room. He didn't let his gaze linger on the gnome for very long in case it was looking in his direction, but was instantly aware of why he would subconsciously pick up its presence. He'd spent too long hiding and running from them to not build up an awareness of them even if he didn't really see them unless in he was visiting Leah.

"Hey Jair!" the sound of his name pulled him back to full awareness and he turned toward the kitchen to see one of the cooks walking toward him with a wave. "Your mom and sister stopped by about an hour ago and I let them know you'd stayed here last night."

Jair let out a sigh of relief that was in no way for show. The gnome had provided only a slight distraction from the slight concern of how he was going to handle telling Eretria why he'd spent half the night at the inn.

"Thanks a lot. You didn't have to do that," Jair said.

"I know I didn't, but I know your parents and Brin. They take mothering to a whole new level when it comes to you."

Jair managed to crack a genuine smile at that. "Yeah, I heard that my parents were even relatively sane until I came along."

"Well, you are enough to drive anybody out of their mind." The humor left the man's expression almost instantly. "Are you feeling alright? You haven't stayed the night like that in a long time. And don't try and say it was nothing; I've used that paste before." The man pointed to the bowl still in Jair's hands and the younger man almost sighed in frustration at completely forgetting to return it to the kitchen before leaving.

"I've just been having problems sleeping the last couple nights and I didn't want to freak my family out by making this up at home."

The man raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Then you should have taken a shower before heading home. Wil and Eretria are the ones who created that mixture and they'd know you used it once you walked into the house." He walked up to Jair and held out his hand for the bowl, which Jair handed over without comment.

"It's no big deal," Jair replied calmly.

His response was a sad sounding sigh. "Hey kid, I'm not _trying_ to get on your case; I figure you've got enough of that from your family. But I honestly wouldn't mind seeing a bit more of you. You know we all miss you around here."

Jair looked at the man in confusion. "I'm here practically every other day."

"I don't mean you coming and keeping the place running. You used to spend any free time you had here, talking to whoever happened to come through. We got good business whenever you were around to take interest in anything. It's not like business changes out here in the Vale, but the atmosphere sure has taken a beating these last two years." Jair remained silent at the observation. Sure, he'd noticed how much more bland the inn had become since his return, but he'd just chalked it up to just how badly he'd been subjected to just how bad people in the world could become.

"I just grew up. It happens to all of us," he finally responded after a long minute of silence.

The cook, a man Jair had known almost all his life, would never be fooled by such a bland excuse but he would accept that it also wasn't really his place to pry if Jair didn't want to elaborate. He simply nodded his acceptance that this was probably how things would be from now on with the youngest Ohmsford and turned back to the kitchen. "Stop by for a real visit sometime soon, kid."

Jair sighed heavily as he turned back to the door and walked out into the streets, his feet automatically taking him in the direction of his home.

* * *

He'd only passed three houses when his instincts put him on alert of being followed. He stopped, his body settling into a stance that would allow him to easily move in any direction, and focused all his attention to his hearing. His elven enhanced sense alerted him to everything surrounding him and he knew immediately that whoever was following him was on the opposite side of the house he'd just passed. With the location determined, he listened carefully to determine just what he was up against.

Light steps, meaning any armor would be light. Short strides on two feet. Barely any hint of clothing, indicating that the person was experienced in stealth. That also meant they would know how to wear weapons so there wouldn't be any noise. The direction had shifted, now heading directly to him.

Reluctantly, Jair inhaled and prepared himself to use the Wishsong, already restricting how much power would go into his voice so that whatever came out would remain an illusion. He was tempted to simply become invisible since the house still cut off his follower from sight of him, but he decided against it since he couldn't cover his tracks and he wasn't confident enough in his control over that particular song to push it to reality where he truly wouldn't exist in order to make tracks.

Making a decision, he turned toward the house and waited for his follower to come into sight. If someone wanted to take the time to follow him, he wouldn't give them something to threaten him with, like his family. He'd face them here and now and get it over with. Anyway, he was pretty sure that it was the gnome he'd seen at the inn and therein was the possibility that it was someone he wouldn't have to worry about after all.

It only took a few steps for the cloaked figure to appear around the corner of the building and there was a pause in their movements as the person realized that Jair wasn't moving and looking toward them.

"Any particular reason for shadowing me? I'm sure you could find a more entertaining target in the woods," Jair questioned immediately, not wanting to give the other a chance to gain much head on him.

"I never would have pegged you for one to face someone following you head on with your history, boy," the familiar snide tone that came from within the hood didn't come as a surprise to Jair since his instincts would have never failed to alert him if he was in any real danger. That and he was just too tired to muster up much strong emotion, so he settled to just stand and wait for Slanter to give some explanation as to why he was in Shady Vale following him…again.

The silence continued long past Slanter pulling the hood from his head and revealed a face that hadn't changed all that much since Jair had last seen it two years ago. Once he realized that Slanter could hold his tongue long past Jair's patience had run out, the Valeman sighed heavily. He had to remind himself that the gnome had lived his life to himself and didn't make a habit of sharing information.

"What are you doing here, Slanter? I had you pegged as someone who didn't hold on to pointless acquaintances," Jair's voice was flat and he mentally cringed at how harsh his words were. He really was glad to see Slanter again, but as much as he tried he couldn't convey that. His mind wandered slightly to every time Brin had come to see him every time he was troubled and realized that it was the same with her and Rone. As much as he loved seeing them, something in him refused to show them too much.

Slanter narrowed his eyes slightly at Jair before shrugging and walking over to the Valeman. "Not even going to treat me to anything?"

Jair lifted an eyebrow, "I would if you didn't treat yourself to the food at the inn. Nothing at my house can beat eating like that."

"Your family owns the inn, don't they?"

"Yes, but my father doesn't use their kitchen to make his Healer concoctions. All our dishes have been permanently engraved with the smell and taste of herbs."

Slanter chuckled dryly. "I can understand how that would lower a meal's quality. Can you at least offer a decent bed?"

Jair felt his irritation rise slightly as the gnome seemed determined to not give him any hints as to why he was there. While he was used to Slanter not divulging anything more than necessary unless upset, he didn't feel that he could deal with that at the moment. But no matter how annoyed he was becoming, a rare happiness was building in him as well. He couldn't deny how happy he was to see Slanter again and he hoped that the gnome would stay long enough to maybe completely dispel the uneasiness that was beginning to overtake his life.

"Slanter, please..." Jair began with a sigh.

"Don't sweat it, boy. I'm here for a reason, but it's not one I'm about to go into in the middle of the street."

"Yeah, well anything you have to say I don't want discussed around my family. I'm already having enough problems convincing them that what happened couldn't be avoided if they wanted Brin alive. My father's just found it convenient to blame you and Allanon for taking us out of Shady Vale."

"So what are you suggesting?" Slanter seemed even more annoyed than Jair was.

"The woods leading up to my house are distanced enough from any homes. But you can start talking now; everybody is out in the fields." The Valeman turned and started walking in the direction of the forest trail that led to his house.

"You've become too demanding. I think I prefer you as a prisoner rather than a friend." Jair rolled his eyes slightly and gave Slanter an expectant look. "I came this way from Arborlorn."

"What were you doing with the elves?"

"One good thing about traveling with the son of King Ander: you're welcome as long as you aren't the one who got him killed." Even though Slanter spoke in good humor, Jair fliched at the words. Once the heartache passed, Jair berated himself for being affected so much. "And that's what brings me here."

Jair stopped walking as his breath hitched. Although he wouldn't know what it was for sure until Slanter clarified, the Valeman was uneasily confident that what the Elven king wanted was to meet him and get the story straight from him.

He was also confident that he couldn't face someone who held his father in such high respect whom he had failed by allowing his son to die. At the same time, he knew that something like this was bound to happen eventually; Edain had been the only one of his guardians who had family that he knew of. Facing up to his mistake was inevitable.

"Hey, boy, you alright?" Slanter's voice barely reached his awareness, but managed to pull him from his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine. So what exactly brings you here calling from Arborlorn?"

"King Ander wants to meet you. Says that not meeting the son of Wil Ohmsford when Edain committed so much to you felt like unfinished business. And since I was there, he figured sending a familiar face to deliver a summons would be easier to take than sending an elven courier." Slanter's tone was slightly bitter towards the end, telling how little he appreciated being used for matters of convenience.

"And you agreed? That's not like you."

"I know, but I guess I was just looking for an excuse to pay you a visit." Something in Slanter's voice told Jair that there was more to it than that. "You know I'd never come this far out of the way unless I had a good enough excuse. If you moved at least to Leah, then you might actually see more of me."

"You say that as if it's a pleasant thing. Honestly you become too much to deal with as time goes on." Slanter shot the Valeman an annoyed look but was cut off before he could defend himself. "You can break it to my parents and sister."

Slanter tripped over a root he'd been too distracted to notice. He shifted his weight instinctively to keep from falling to the ground or into to Valeman standing - and grinning over his shoulder - in front of him. After he took a second to be thankful that he was a gnome and not some lanky elf, he couldn't quell the sense of forboding the prospect of throwing this subject at the rest of the Ohmsford family. When he'd arrived in the Vale the night before and had asked around the Inn if Jair would be around that evening, he'd had enough dirty looks from those who lived in the village that he'd went to his room as soon as he'd finished eating. If that was the reaction from people who were of no relation to the boy, he was almost afraid of those who had a good reason to want to protect Jair.

Not that he really blamed their protective attitudes: he'd fallen prey to the urge to defend this boy too many times.

He still blamed the magic he knew virtually nothing about despite the amount of exposure he'd had to its use. He'd refused any offers Jair had made to explain how his magic worked, always feeling that he'd either not understand or wouldn't hear any real facts, and he didn't regret his choice.

At the same time, Slanter had the feeling that the elder Ohmsfords would be people in which knowledge would represent power, and the Tracker was walking the path of ignorance. Jair's voice cut quickly into his thoughts.

"You shouldn't worry too much: Brin will probably give you some support and her opinion holds a lot of weight with my family. Besides, even if Mom and Dad are upset, I doubt they'll do anything to show it until you're not around. Rone could go either way."

"You realize how little that helps me, right?"

"I never said I was trying to help. I don't really believe in buttering up facts unnecessarily."

Slanter passed the Valeman and walked quickly toward the house that was now barely in view through the woods. Jair followed at a much more relaxed pace."

"I know I haven't really given you the impression to prove this, but I really am happy to see you, Slanter. There aren't many people around that don't have to ask why I've become the way I am and it's a relief not to hear the same questions." Slanter halted and turned toward Jair only because he could have sworn someone completely different was now following him. He nodded briefly in response before turning away.

In all honesty, Slanter wanted to ask what had happened to the Valeman in the two years since they'd parted. The silver eyes and streaks of hair confused him greatly, and he could swear that Jair had somehow acquired more elven blood in his body. Then there were the instances, like the one that had just passed, where it seemed like nothing of the youngest Ohmsford that he'd met and taken prisoner those few years ago remained. He wanted to ask so many questions, which was completely against everything he was, but he held himself back for fear that any inquiries would lose him any welcome in the boy's life.

Apparently he wasn't too far off.


End file.
